


After The Battle

by ignorance_is



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gryffindor Common Room, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Pre-Epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29131023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignorance_is/pseuds/ignorance_is
Summary: The Battle of Hogwarts is over and the wizarding world is safe at last. But can Harry and Ginny rebuild their relationship from the ruins left behind?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Kudos: 11





	After The Battle

Harry hadn’t known where else to go. As joyous celebrations kicked off all across the castle, all Harry could think of was his four poster bed in the Gryffindor dormitory. The bed he’d slept in since he was 11 years old, in the only true home he had ever known. 

He pulled on his invisibility cloak and set off across the castle, picking his way through the rubble and averting his eyes from tender scenes of mourning and celebration that he encountered on the way. It was a relief to move unseen: he had the rest of his life to be stared at but, just for tonight, he wanted the freedom that comes with being nobody. 

The dormitory was empty when Harry reached it. Ron and Hermione had slunk off into the shadows together soon after leaving Dumbledore’s office, and Harry had spotted Neville, Dean and Seamus in tearful reunions with family members as he had left the Great Hall. 

Now that the adrenaline of the battle had finally left his body, Harry realised for the first time just how tired he felt. His body ached right down to the bones, and cuts and bruises that he had ignored before had started to throb insistently. His old bed was waiting for him - the bedsheets felt cool and crisp against his skin, and he fell down, down, down… 

His ears rang with the sounds of fighting. Someone in the distance was screaming his name - “Harry! Harry!” - and he had to find them, had to help. He charged down the rubble-strewn corridor and burst through a door on his left. The screaming had stopped and, as Harry looked down, he saw bodies strewn across the floor, their limbs lying at hideous, broken angles. Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Ginny… Their glassy eyes staring up at him, blank and unseeing. And he knew that it was all his fault, that he hadn’t saved them, could never save them. He heard a noise behind him and, before he could turn, a high, cold voice spoke -  
“Harry Potter…”

Harry sat bolt upright in bed. His heart was hammering and his sheets were soaked with sweat. He had fallen asleep with his glasses on and, straightening them on his face, frantically looked around the dormitory for any sign of danger. The room was still deserted, however, and Harry’s pulse slowly returned to normal as he gulped in deep breaths of cool night air. 

The screams from his nightmare were still ringing in his ears, and Harry knew that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again. Pulling a blanket from one of the beds, he wrapped it around his shoulders and silently padded down the stairs into the common room. The common room wasn’t deserted, however. As Harry rounded the corner, he saw that someone had conjured a crackling fire in the grate and was sitting on the floor in front of it. Someone with long red hair streaming down her back. 

Ginny. 

His breath caught in his throat. She didn’t seem to have heard him, and he stood there watching her for several moments. She was sitting on the hearthrug, hugging her knees to her chest and staring deep into the flames. Her hair had grown since he’d last left her at The Burrow, and Harry was seized by a sudden, unaccountable desire to run his fingers through it. 

Eventually, he tore himself away and walked slowly across the room, coming to rest beside her on the floor. 

“You should have woken me.”

She turned to face him, and the corner of her lip curved into a tiny smile. “I thought you could probably do with the sleep."

In the flickering firelight, he could see the marks of battle on her face for the first time. Her skin was streaked with ash and she had a dark purple bruise blooming under her left eye. There was a smear of dried blood under her bottom lip. Harry thought she had never looked so beautiful. 

He knew he needed to say something, but couldn’t think of the words. Eventually he settled on, “I missed you”. He saw that tiny curve of her lip again, but it looked wistful this time. She turned back, and Harry could see the reflected firelight dancing in her eyes. He tried again. “I’m sorry”. 

She sighed, and for a long time the only sound was the crackling of the fire. Eventually she spoke again, so quietly that her words were barely audible over the sound of the flames - “You left me”. 

“Gin?”

“You left me behind. You took them with you, and you left me behind.” 

Her words pierced Harry somewhere deep in his chest. “Dumbledore said-”, but he broke off. The words seemed hollow and empty. Dumbledore had been right about everything, in the end. But he had also been wrong about everything. Harry could see that now. So he decided to be honest: “I was scared”. 

“And you think I wasn’t?” 

“I was scared something would happen to you. I couldn’t lose you.”

“Something did happen to me! You don’t know what it was like when you left! You have no idea what they did to us!” Harry tried to interrupt but Ginny blazed on. She tugged aside the neck of her jumper, revealing a long, thin scar winding across her collarbone and down her shoulder. “That was for trying to steal the Sword of Gryffindor. And these?” She held up her wrists, allowing Harry to see thick, gouged welts encircling them like bracelets. “A week chained up in the dungeons for trying to recruit DA members.” Harry had to fight down the urge to vomit, to rage and scream, to kill anyone who had ever hurt her. “There are others, too. And as for the Cruciatus Curse? Well.. that one doesn’t leave scars. Not ones that you can see, anyway.”

She didn’t cry. Harry almost wished that she would - then he could sweep in and hold her tight and whisper that everything would be okay, that he was back now and would never leave her again. That he would rather die than leave her again. But instead, her eyes were dry and bright and fierce. She looked him full in the face, and her furious beauty almost overwhelmed him. 

“They tortured me. But that wasn’t even the worst part. Do you know what the worst part was?” Harry shook his head, slowly. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from her face. 

“The worst part was waiting. Every day, waiting. To hear that you’d been captured. That you’d been killed. That I would never see you again.” 

Harry drew closer to her. “I’m here now. Everything will be alright. I promise.” 

“But what if it isn’t? We’ve lost so many people. Remus, Tonks…. Fred.” Her voice caught in her throat but her eyes stayed dry. “I can’t bear to lose you too”. 

Harry reached out and cupped her face with his hand. She felt warm under his touch. “I’ll never leave you again, I swear. I made a mistake. But I would do anything, anything, to keep you safe.” He had to make her see, had to make her understand. He stroked his thumb across her lower lip and she let out a tiny, almost inaudible gasp. Harry could feel himself moving closer, as if pulled towards her by a force beyond his control. He was struck, not for the first time, by just how much gold there was in her brown eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was a whisper.  
“This was the last thing I thought of. This look… Your lips… The way they feel. The way you taste. Voldemort was standing in front of me and I knew I was about to die. And all I could think about was kissing you.” 

And then suddenly, he was kissing her. His lips met hers - gently at first, so gently that he could feel the soft warmth of her breath caressing his mouth. But she returned the kiss with force, grabbing the front of his shirt with both hands to pull him in closer. He felt a jolt of electricity as she slipped her tongue between his lips. She tasted like ash and sweat and blood. He groaned, wrapping one hand around her hip and stroking the other down her back. God, he’d missed this - this heat, this closeness. How her hands felt when she buried them in his hair, and the way she moaned against his lips.

But even in the midst of all these dizzying sensations, Harry was suddenly struck by how clear his head felt. No dull pain building in his scar, no flashes of emotion that weren’t his own, no urge to slip his skin and find himself somewhere else. He had shared his mind with Voldemort for so long that it hadn’t occurred to him what things would be like now that he was gone. Harry finally felt free. The knowledge made him feel heady, as if he’d downed a firewhiskey too fast. At last, his body was entirely his own. And he was sharing it with her. Just like he wanted to share everything with her, for the rest of his life. 

As if sensing his realisation, Ginny pulled back, breaking the kiss and meeting his gaze. She smiled, and this time it was a broad joy-filled grin that made his heart swell in his chest. 

"So…" she said. "What do we do now?" 

Harry didn't know, but he knew that, whatever they did, they would do it together.


End file.
